Strange Meat And Invalid Visas Poem by Timmy Curran

Could be the ticket
to a different life
So tired but somehow
keep going on
The grass always green
underneath a blanket of snow
The sky always blue
above a cloudy day
Oh the things you say!
It´s all in how you shake,
letting dirt fall through
the holes and only
gold sitting in the bowl
Surviving on machismo,
drinking to stay healthy
Passports, invalid visas
Hamburger ground from
the strangest meats
If all is new, when will it turn old?
Questions, always questions